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“Marco is going to love breaking you in. I bet he does it himself.” Mario palms his fist, squeezing until his knuckles crack.

“Maybe he’ll let us have a go.” One of the brothers laughs.

“So, you’re sticking to that plan, huh?” I draw in a long breath.

“I just need a one more pic, for proof of life.” Mario’s camera flashes at me again, stealing what little focus I had.

“Mario.” One of the brothers hisses. “Shh, do you hear that?”

“What? There’s nothing. Calm down.” Mario presses his face against mine so we’re both aimed at the phone and takes another picture. “That one’s for me.”

I lift my shoulder up as high as I can and wipe my cheek against it. The residue of his face is still on me, though. And the garlic scent lingers.

“No. I heard it, too.” The second brother moves closer to the double doors made of heavy-duty steel.

“For fuck’s sake. There’s nothing out there!” Mario spins around just as the doors fling open.

The container is thrown into darkness when the painter lights my captors used for lighting crash to the ground as men storm inside. When I’m grabbed, I scream.

“Shhh, it’s all right. It’s okay.” A familiar voice grounds me, wiping away any lingering fear. My soul immediately realizes it’s him. He’s here.

“Rurik?” I twist, but I still can’t see.

“Lights!” he bellows, and the container is flooded with it.

I wince and shut my eyes to it. Whatever his men are using is way brighter than the soft yellow illumination Mario used.

“Give it a second.” He’s behind me, working on the handcuffs. It takes him a ridiculously short amount of time to get them off me.

My shoulders scream as my arms roll forward.

“Slow.” He’s rubbing my shoulders my arms. “Fuck.”

I look down and realize my shirt’s still open. He pulls the material back together, but the buttons are all missing.

When Mario’s screams reach Rurik, his face tightens. One of Rurik’s men stands over Mario’s crumbled body on the floor. Blood runs down from his nose as he’s dragged back up tohis feet.

“Where else are you hurt?” Rurik moves in front of me, searching for injuries.

“I’m okay,” I try to assure him, but my voice carries no weight.

He works on getting my ankles freed from the chair.

“Fuck.” Kaz steps up behind Rurik, taking a look at me.

“I’m fine.” I close my eyes for a moment. I just need a second to let the reality of the moment seep in.

Rurik’s here.

“No.” Rurik stops me when I try to push out of the chair. “I’m going to carry you.”

“I can walk.” I try to fight him, but the moment I lean forward to put pressure on my feet, I feel it. I’m a spaghetti noodle.

“I’m carrying you.” He scoops me up off the chair and cradles me against him.

My shoulders are too weak and sore for me to lift my arms around his neck, so I just press my face into his chest.

“Find out what the fuck they gave her.” Rurik barks at someone.